A Second Chance, To Start Over
by Kitten Meru
Summary: Harry doesn't want it to end the way everyone hopes it does. He wants both parties involved to get a second chance.


This was how he always imagined it would end. An epic battle between the two of them, at Hogwarts, with bodies surrounding them and his friends fighting against the death eaters. Yes, this was how he imagined it would end.

All the horcruxes were gone, even the one in himself, and the elder wand that Voldemort held would not kill him, because it's wielder was not it's master, it's target was. Lights blazing, spells clashing, power, destruction, death, it was all as it should be. And like everyone expected, he would win this fight.

But what would the result be? Voldemort would die, and his life would go back to normal? No, that wouldn't happen. He would forever be The Boy Who Lived. Even if he grew old, that would forever be his title. Or perhaps it would be something more stupid, like The Boy Who Lived To Defeat You-Know-Who Twice. 'Defeat' used lightly, because the number could be higher, depending on how you look at it.

No, that wouldn't do. Not only did he not want to live his life like that, he didn't want to be a murderer. Even if Voldemort was an evil man incapable of love, as he had discovered with his extensive research, he couldn't bring himself to kill him.

But what else was there? He was prophesized to 'vanquish' the monster, was there any way around murder? Perhaps he would just send his soul onward, to the next life, to be reborn as a boy whose mother was not greedy, as a boy who could love. Tom deserved a second chance, it was not his fault he could not love. He deserved a chance to find someone for him, to use his life for something normal, average, he deserved a chance to be like everyone else for a chance, to have a loving family, parents, maybe even siblings. He deserved to have everything that he lost.

But even if he did, how did that solve his own problem? He was a self-sacrificing Gryffindor, but there was enough Slytherin in him to be a bit greedy. And he was sick of being Harry Potter. He wanted instead to be anonymous, average, not hounded by the press, he wanted a quiet life away from it all. He wanted the life he should have had if Voldemort hadn't killed his parents. The life he would have had if Merope Gaunt hadn't lusted after a man who did not love her. But if he lived through this battle, he could not have that. At least not right away.

He came to a decision then, and silently prayed that his friends would forgive him. He prayed that his parents, that Sirius and Remus would stay by his side even as he did this. He cut off his spell and sidestepped the reminder of Tom's Avada Kedavra, and walked forward. Everyone around him was too distracted with their own battles to notice anything he did. He walked up to Tom, who looked at him in an odd half-crazed way. Tom tried once again to curse him with the deadly unforgivable, but by some stroke of dumb luck, he once again avoided it.

He stood before Tom, his wand away, and just looked into his red eyes. So much anger and hatred could be seen in those eyes. What would they look like filled with happiness, with laughter, with love? He would find out.

He took Tom's hand in his, gripping the wand with him, and the wand came to life at the joy of being held by its master. White hot light filled the area, engulfing the two duelling wizards in the entrance hall and causing all movement at Hogwarts to stop for a split second.

The story of how Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort became legend.

Time went on.

Fifty years later, when everyone Harry had ever known was either dead or old, something peculiar was happening. In a perfectly average town, on a perfectly average street, in a house that was just a bit different than the ones around it, a family lived. A loving couple, a nurse for a father, and an author for a mother, and two young boys who had just turned 11. A normal breakfast of sausages and eggs, one sausage split and fed to the two dogs 'paddy' and 'remmy'. On the table, a vase shaped like a stag, full of lilies. One boy sat at one side of the table, a book in his hand and a snake in his pocket. Another boy sat opposite him, his twin, with glasses on his face and a baseball glove in his lap.

A tap at the window came, everyone looked up. The father jumped, the mother stared blankly, the two boys grinned at each other. An owl was perched just outside the window, carrying two almost identical letters.

It was time to return to Hogwarts.


End file.
